However, with the fine days work had been continued.  The building of the vessel was hastened as much as possible, and, by means of the waterfall on the shore, Cyrus Harding managed to establish an hydraulic sawmill, which rapidly cut up the trunks of trees into planks and joists.  The mechanism of this apparatus was as simple as those used in the rustic sawmills of Norway.  A first horizontal movement to move the piece of wood, a second vertical movement to move the saw—­this was all that was wanted; and the engineer succeeded by means of a wheel, two cylinders, and pulleys properly arranged.  Towards the end of the month of September the skeleton of the vessel, which was to be rigged as a schooner, lay in the dockyard.  The ribs were almost entirely completed, and, all the timbers having been sustained by a provisional band, the shape of the vessel could already be seen.  The schooner, sharp in the bows, very slender in the after-part, would evidently be suitable for a long voyage, if wanted; but laying the planking would still take a considerable time.  Very fortunately, the iron work of the pirate brig had been saved after the explosion.  From the planks and injured ribs Pencroft and Ayrton had extracted the bolts and a large quantity of copper nails.  It was so much work saved for the smiths, but the carpenters had much to do.

Shipbuilding was interrupted for a week for the harvest, the haymaking, and the gathering in of the different crops on the plateau.  This work finished, every moment was devoted to finishing the schooner.  When night came the workmen were really quite exhausted.  So as not to lose any time they had changed the hours for their meals; they dined at twelve o’clock, and only had their supper when daylight failed them.  They then ascended to Granite House, when they were always ready to go to bed.

Sometimes, however, when the conversation bore on some interesting subject the hour for sleep was delayed for a time.  The colonists then spoke of the future, and talked willingly of the changes which a voyage in the schooner to inhabited lands would make in their situation.  But always, in the midst of these plans, prevailed the thought of a subsequent return to Lincoln Island.  Never would they abandon this colony, founded with so much labor and with such success, and to which a communication with America would afford a fresh impetus.  Pencroft and Neb especially hoped to end their days there.

“Herbert,” said the sailor, “you will never abandon Lincoln Island?”

“Never, Pencroft, and especially if you make up your mind to stay there.”

“That was made up long ago, my boy,” answered Pencroft.  “I shall expect you.  You will bring me your wife and children, and I shall make jolly chaps of your youngsters!”

“That’s agreed,” replied Herbert, laughing and blushing at the same time.

“And you, Captain Harding,” resumed Pencroft enthusiastically, “you will be still the governor of the island!  Ah, how many inhabitants could it support?  Ten thousand at least!”